They came, I heard them clear, on a windy white winter's night
Their eyes were shadowed and dark, their torches burning bright
They pried the family from their beds, and beat him in the street
They took her and then left her, dying at her husband's cold feet
Then they turned to walk away, for they would not harm a child
A fair and lovely thing was she, but now she looked quite wild
She grabbed a nearby knife and gave her neck a pretty red bow
And then she fell with a muffled thud, making an angel in the snow
Aug 7, 2020
Aug 7, 2020 at 6:11 AM UTC
They came, I heard them clear, on a windy white winter's night
Their eyes were shadowed and dark, their torches burning bright
They pried the family from their beds, and beat him in the street
They took her and then left her, dying at her husband's cold feet
Then they turned to walk away, for they would not harm a child
A fair and lovely thing was she, but now she looked quite wild
She grabbed a nearby knife and gave her neck a pretty red bow
And then she fell with a muffled thud, making an angel in the snow